


kau adalah hati yang menopang hidupku

by masamune11



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Bahasa Indonesia to English, Fluff, Happy ending Mikorei, M/M, Mikorei - Freeform, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4550421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masamune11/pseuds/masamune11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reishi shook his head, holding back the words that he wanted so much to utter. Yet there's no use talking to the departed <i>whose death was caused by his own two hands</i>.</p><hr/><p><b>"kau adalah hati yang menopang hidupku"</b> - <i>Bahasa Indonesia</i> approximation for "<a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4542972">you're that heart which kept me alive</a>".</p>
            </blockquote>





	kau adalah hati yang menopang hidupku

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [you're that heart which kept me alive](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4542972) by [sazyanaita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sazyanaita/pseuds/sazyanaita). 



> Because good (mikorei) fics must be spread wide in ways possible. Thank you, [sazyanaita](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sazyanaita/pseuds/sazyanaita), for giving me permission to translate your fic. I may not be the best writer, but I gave my all to pour emotion into this translation. Hopefully, it lives to your expectation.
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy, dear readers.

Silver. Blinding _annoying_ silver was the first thing that assaulted his eyes. Mikoto's forehead wrinkled, its owner trying to remember how he ended up in this silvery field, filled with snow-like substances despite being unreasonably temperate, when a silhouette of a person suddenly appeared within his range of vision.

A  _familiar_ person with honey-yellow hair and wide grin walked towards him, hand enthusiastically waving without remorse. 

“Hey! King!"

* * *

"So this the world of the dead?"

Tatara chuckled lightly next to Mikoto—a light chuckle that he heard every day as the Red King, as the permanent resident of his sofa around the corner of the bar, and as one of the three delinquents in their schooldays.

"Somewhat like that, King. What do you think?"

"Hm. Not bad."

There was another laugh from the man deemed as the 'core' of HOMRA, the 'heart' of the Red Clan. Mikoto Suoh may be the Red King with shortest lifetime and even shorter temper, but he had another 'brain' and 'heart' in two different forms altogether—Izumo Kusanagi and Tatara Totsuka.

When one lost their ' _heart_ ', no matter how hard their ' _brain_ ' struggled for life, they were as good as _dead_.

"King, I really miss you, you know?"

Mikoto blinked, his eyes staring straight at Tatara with his signature expression: a flat-out almost-lazy stare with one raised eyebrow.

“Hng.”

Of course the other man should have expected a response resembling too much like a half-beast going into hibernation. 

"Ahahahaha. But King—"

* * *

“—you do not belong in this place.”

* * *

_"Tell me about your regrets."_

_"...I have none."_

_"Then why are you still here?"_

_"...go ask yourself that question. Why are you holding me back here?"_

_"I cannot hold someone with powers like you without their consent."_

_"...what power? I have no power left."_

_"Let reprise my statement: someone who_ used to _have power, like you. You realise that your connection with the Dresden Slate will never end even in death."_

_"...is that so?"_

_"Yep! So riddle me this—"_

* * *

_“—what regrets do you have, Mikoto Suoh?"_

* * *

It felt like an echo, the power of his flame burning within himself even within this world of silver. The man with silver hair—the one known to him as both the Silver _and_ Colourless King—can only offer him a terse smile.

"I do not know why the Dresden Plate made an exception for you."

"You talk as if you cannot accept this. Besides, isn't that thing one of your findings?"

Yashiro Isana—or Adolf Weissman or whatever he called himself now—only shrugged.

"You know it's not fair. There has never been a case like this. And even though I have studied the Dresden Plate far longer, I know for a fact that it has a will of his own—a will that I cannot influence."

"Hmph. You think all is fair between in the rulings of Kings when you, Silver and Gold, control the daily lives of ordinary people? You think being chosen as a King in itself is _fair_?

Shiro let out a sigh, "yet this is the first time I'm witnessing a King who does not lose his power in spite of dying. Even so, you cannot return to life."

Mikoto's forehead wrinkled. "Why?"

"There cannot be two Red Kings alive at the same time."

"Who says I want to return as a King?"  

“...”

* * *

On the hundredth day after Anna Kushina's ascension as the Red King, Reishi Munakata returned _to the place where it all began._

He still remembered everything as if it was yesterday—everything that he could sense, see, hear, and feel.

_A flicker of smile. 'Thank you'. 'Sorry'. Heartbeats fading to silence. Held-out breath. Crimson blood. Paralysing cold. Unimaginable pain and tears that cannot be shed._

Hundred days had passed since he put an end to Mikoto Suoh's life, yet Reishi felt as if it happened seconds prior.

"I never had the chance to speak with you like this, Suoh," Reishi whispered, "about Tatara, about HOMRA, about how you shouldn't have gone rabid on your stupid cause and spent your power so extensively, or how a King's burden is also another King's to bear."

—how killing Mikoto meant driving out his reason to live.

Reishi shook his head, holding back the words that he wanted so much to utter. Yet there's no use talking to the departed _whose death was caused by his own two hands._

He let out another dejected sigh and turned, only stoping in his place when he caught a sliver of red, honey-yellow silhouette walking away from that familiar crimson.

“Hey, Munakata.” 

* * *

Tatara Totsuka was the core of HOMRA, his reason to live as the Red King, and the heart of Red Clan. Even though his right to rule had been passed down to the silver-haired girl, HOMRA will never be the same without Tatara. The Red Clan cannot live without its heart.

And Mikoto Suoh, who was no longer a King, can never live without his heart.


End file.
